


Tales From The SMP Oneshots

by tamajam



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Tales From The SMP - Fandom
Genre: Blood and Injury, Families of Choice, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Swearing, no beta we die like the entire village
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:28:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28563549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamajam/pseuds/tamajam
Summary: Karl's new Tales from the SMP series has got me thinking, and this is the result.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Robin (Tales From The SMP) & Corpse Husband, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Corpse Husband
Comments: 10
Kudos: 113





	Tales From The SMP Oneshots

**Author's Note:**

> heads up: as a headcanon name suggested by a friend, corpse's character's name will be cecilio :)

Thunder boomed. Rain poured down around him, the water gathering in every divot and in the cobblestone that made up the floor of the town square. It trickled down the sides of the well where he stood and pooled into his too-big boots. He should move, Robin knew that–take cover, maybe, wait inside his parents' crumbling, dust filled home until the storm passed. He needed to clean it up soon, anyway. But something kept him planted firmly where he stood, hazel eyes glued to the rippling water in the well below. 

What was the point of cleaning the house when he knew his father was never coming home?

The boy could still feel it. The sickly warmth of his father's blood pooling out beneath his fingers, coating his hands in crimson. His father's eyes, wide and terrified, as Robin desperately applied pressure to the wound with to no avail. The shouts and shots of war rang out all around him, filling his ears with an orchestra of suffering, and there was nothing he could do. His father's hand, slowly, shakily, reaching up to cup his cheek, the faintest forced smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His lips parting, the whisper of his final words, the blood that trickled down his chin and mixed with his tears. The–

_No._

His eyes were watering, tears blending with the rainwater. He didn't want to cry, not now. Still, he couldn't keep back the shiver that wracked his thin form and the sob that rested just in the back of his throat, threatening to rip loose. His hands balled into fists and his side and he swallowed. The rain soaked through thin clothes, chilling him to the bone, but he still couldn't bring himself to care enough to find shelter. 

The rain could freeze him if it wanted. He didn't mind.

Suddenly, the cold water pelting him from above was cut off. Robin blinked, confused, and stiffened as soon as he realized someone was standing beside him. Slowly, he turned his head, expecting to be met with a lecture from one of the villagers frustrated with his presence, but was instead met with a man holding an umbrella over his head and a gentle smile. The man had chestnut brown hair and wore worn denim pants beneath a dark brown jacket. He wasn't facing him, instead staring straight forward, and there was something odd about his eyes that the boy couldn't exactly determine. He carried a carved wooden cane with him, which stuck an inch or so into the mud. The oddest features, though–which made his own eyes widen–were the pair of cat-like ears sticking out of his head and the matching tail that swayed softly behind him. Robin frowned. He'd never seen this man before, and he could've sworn he'd been introduced to all the town's residents while they were lecturing him for his return.

"Why are you out here in the cold?" The man asked. His voice was surprisingly deep and held a gentleness that caught the child off guard. Then again, after enduring nothing but harsh words and scolding glances from the other townspeople he’d met, any kind actions would surprise him. After taking a moment to gather his composure and to ensure he wasn’t going to start shivering from the freezing water soaking his clothes, he gave a shrug.

A moment passed. The man said nothing--he didn’t even move to acknowledge he’d seen the movement. He just kept staring straight ahead, like he couldn’t even see Robin. The boy cleared his throat, and the man’s head turned to face him, though his eyes didn’t focus on his. Actually, now that he could see them, Robin realized that the man’s eyes were light and.. odd. They were unfocused, like he wasn’t even seeing anything properly.

_Was he blind?_

Robin didn’t want to ask. He could practically hear his father’s voice in his ears, telling him off for poor manners before the question even left his lips. Instead, he just mumbled, “I dunno. I like the rain.”

“You do?” The man’s ear twitched. “I guess this must be a good day for you, then.”

“Yeah.” Robin said quietly. It wasn’t, by any means, and he could tell in the way that the man frowned that the sadness hanging over his head had tainted his voice. The boy even noticed the umbrella edged a bit closer to more effectively cover him, leaving the man holding it more exposed.

“Personally, the rain’s not for me. I hate getting wet.” The man shrugged, tail swaying behind him.

Robin couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. He eyed the man’s cat-like ears and tail and didn’t bother pushing back the small smile tugging at his lips. “Of course you don’t. You’re like a cat, aren’t you?”

The man smiled. “Maybe I am. Guess that’d make sense, wouldn’t it?”

“Uh-huh.” Robin let his smile grow a little as the other chuckled. He hadn’t made someone laugh since his father, and he’d forgotten how nice it felt to make someone else happy. “It does.”

There was silence between them for a minute or so, disturbed only by the sound of the rain pelting against the umbrella. It was a thin one with one or two holds torn through the fabric--probably old--but it didn’t bother him. Robin was just thankful for the company, even if he knew the other was bound to head back inside his own home soon.

“You’re Robin, aren’t you?” The man asked suddenly. 

Robin’s content smile shifted into a confused frown. “Um… yeah. That’s me. How’d you know?”

The man laughed quietly. “Overheard Helga shouting something about you last night. She’s _really_ loud--it’s hard not to find things out.”

“Oh, yeah.” Robin chuckled, but it was more out of discomfort than any sense of amusement. “Helga really doesn’t like me, if you couldn’t tell. I don’t really think she wants me to live here.” He smiled weakly, “I don’t think anyone does.”

He wasn’t quite sure why he was being so honest with this stranger. Maybe it was the setting--cold as it was, the rain made a great atmosphere for spilling your guts. Maybe he was just so starved for positive interaction that he was willing to tell this man whatever he wanted to hear. He wasn’t sure, and to be honest, he didn’t care.

The man was quiet for a moment, and Robin was afraid he’d gone too far. Then he spoke again, this time with a tone more careful than before. “Robin, you’ve gotta be cold standing out here like this, and I’ve got some soup leftover from dinner.”

Robin froze. He had to have heard him wrong, there was no way someone was offering something like this, _surely_ not--

“You’re welcome to have some to eat--stay for as long as you’d like, even. I’ve got plenty of room, and I’m sure it’s better than standing out here in the cold.” The man smiled, tilting his head a fraction to the side, “What do you say?”

Robin stared up at him, his eyes wide. This was more than he’d been offered in months, and this man was giving it after only speaking to him for a few minutes? It seemed too good to be true, but Robin found a smile spreading across his face. He nodded vigorously, then, upon realizing that judging by the look of the man’s eyes he couldn’t see those movements, managed, “I’d--That--That would be amazing! Thank you, sir!”

“No need for the formality. Cecilio’s fine. I think we’re on a first-name basis, don’t you?” The man-- _Cecillio,_ he corrected himself--reached a hand out to his side. There was a moment of confused hesitation before Robin realized what he was asking. Cautiously, he grabbed hold on the man’s hand and felt his smile grow to a grin.

“Yeah, of course. Thanks, Mr. Cecilio.”

Cecilio laughed and pulled his cane from where it had sunken into the mud, tapping it lightly off the ground in front of them before beginning to lead Robin towards the nearest house. Warmth practically radiated from inside with the glow of the lights behind the windows, and Robin felt a warmth he hadn’t known in a while begin to rise in his chest.

_Is this what being wanted feels like?_

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed :) this is shorter than what i usually write, but i hope thats alright haha  
> feel free to leave kudos and a comment telling me what you thought, i love receiving feedback :D


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